


Remix of a Remix

by tealmoon



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underswap, Anxiety Attacks, Awkward First Times, Consensual Possession, Crying, Friends With Benefits, Mirror Sex, Napstablook is a stone dominant ok, No Genitals, Other, Sort of? - Freeform, Wire Play, dysorgasmia, tale/swap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-02-26 03:13:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13226934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tealmoon/pseuds/tealmoon
Summary: For all of their differences, Napstablook and Napstabot had a lot of the same anxieties, and of course Napstablook wanted to help their cool friend (more than friend?), if they could. They didn't expect that innocuous helping to turn into much more.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cardboardhydrates](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cardboardhydrates/gifts).



> For clarity's sake, 'Blooky' refers to original Undertale and 'Napsta' is Underswap, because of course that's confusing. Also, first chapter is sfw, second will be nsfw.

“...what am I supposed to do if I get kicked out of music, I’m not good at anything else, not like Mettaton...”

It was nice being friends with Napstabot, most of the time. Blooky had worried about how energetic they were, almost more intense than Mettaton and Papyrus, but it was nice having someone to talk music with. Someone who didn’t push them as much as Mettaton did, though that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, was it? Someone who, once Blooky got to know them better, was just as panicked about performing, though they never betrayed it outside of closed doors. Not like Napstablook, who phased through their equipment and stuttered during interviews, and...

Maybe it was horrible, to see someone pacing and crying acidic tears and using an excessive amount of ellipses, and think _It’s not just me._ _They’re not perfect. They’re like me_ with something like...joy? Relief? And then enough disgust at their own thoughts to actually act, instead of running away like they might have in the Underground. That would have been the end of everything, right? No more chatting online, no more jam sessions.

They had been floating on the edge of Napsta’s fancy leather coach, trying to edge in past their friend’s panicked, fast-paced talking about how their concerts were “gonna bomb, you have no idea, no one’s gonna go to one ever again after next week” and how Metty (their Metty and not Mettaton, though they had plenty to say about him as well) was going to leave them, how they just wanted to go back Underground where things weren’t as complicated—

They tried to convince Napsta otherwise, trying to think about what they would have wanted from someone witnessing their own panic attack. Well, they would have wanted to be left alone, but if the person insisted on staying, then those sort of things would have been nice. But apparently not very convincing.

“Your other concerts were really good, though...” Shouted down, arguing that their previous concerts had been getting worse and that people never went more than once, too disappointed in Napstabot’s performance. And there wasn’t really any way to prove that, not when the crowd was basically an anonymous mass. They could have looked it up online to see if Napstabot did have lasting fans, but Blooky wasn’t sure what to say if it wasn’t the case.

“I don’t _think_ your producer would drop you, she seemed really nice from all the times you talked about her before...” But maybe they had seen something Blooky hadn’t; they hadn’t ever met herself themself. They barely managed to keep themself from spiraling into the same worry: what if it really did happen and they lost their career?? They _loved_ music, it would devastate Napsta. Maybe they were right to be panicked.

“Metty wouldn’t leave you, he’s your family.” Ignored, like they couldn’t think of an argument but still believed it. And that made Blooky wonder if Mettaton would leave _them_ , and it was a struggle not to start weeping too.

Nothing was working, and Blooky had no idea what to say or how to fix things. They had tried all the reassurances they could think of, which wasn’t very many, but the right words floated just out of grasp, too hard to put in order. Even harder to talk to someone who was practically yelling, even if it wasn’t at Blooky themself; they had been sinking deeper into the couch with each minute, resisting the urge to vanish. There had to be _some_ way to help them, right?

They drifted over into Napsta’s path, hoping to try a ghostly hug or probably just a delicate pat on the arm. Some people liked being touched when they were stressed, like how Mettaton would wrap Blooky up in yards of his expanded arms for a hug that would have crushed a corporeal being. Napsta clearly hadn’t expected it, coming to an abrupt stop to keep them from fusing into their torso. Not abrupt enough, as Blooky’s outstretched hands just barely clipped in through the metal, and oh. _Oh_ , that was weird. They would have expected their internal parts to be cold since it was all metal, wasn’t it?

They were already pulling themself out before they could think too hard on just how warm and strange that had been. How nice even that small overlapping had felt. “I’m sorry, I got too close, I should’ve asked first...”

Napsta was staring at them, going quiet. Apparently it had been enough of a shock that it derailed all the cruel things they had been saying to themself. The pause was long enough that Blooky was sure they were angry about the perceived violation, before they spread their arms out.

“You don’t have to freak out about it. Were you going to give me a ghostly hug, ‘cause I’m down for that.” They were still crying, heavy beads of magic dripping down their face, but it looked like it was slowing down. Maybe they weren’t just lying to spare Blooky’s feelings? They drifted back into range, their tiny hand reaching out to brush Napsta’s fingers and then to move through them. “C’mon, bring it in.”

Before Napstabot, they had never tried possessing another living thing. There had been dummies and mannequins, but never anything more complicated and nothing sentient. Of course they knew it was _possible._ Mettaton had once offered Blooky a test run to see if they’d would like a metal body of their own, a long time ago before they had ever met their counterpart. But at the time, it had seemed so intrusive to do that to another person. Wasn’t it rude, inappropriate to walk into someone’s body? How much control would Blooky be able to take away from them?

When they didn’t jolt back or suddenly declare that they had changed their mind, Blooky moved closer, until they were right up against their chestplate, the edges of them just barely dipping in. They made sure not to get too close to that exposed soul as they phased further in; _that_ would be completely out of line. They could feel their energy starting to spread down into their limbs, their form dispersed through Napsta’s, and it was...weird. A little overwhelming, or maybe even a lot. But Napsta seemed distracted by it, which was the whole point. Would it be so weird to share bodies to keep that up? It wasn’t _bad_ necessarily, just very strange.

As they flexed their borrowed hands, surprised at how intricate they were from close up, it seemed like a 70% to 30% split in favor of them rather than the body’s owner. Napsta could still move their limbs, but it seemed to take a considerable amount of effort to push past Blooky, though they were too surprised at suddenly having a body to do much with it.

Napsta pulled back enough control to raise a shaking hand up and wipe at their face. “See, I told you this was cool. Me and Metty used to do that sometimes when there was only one dummy left, so we could both have it.” Their voice was still distorted, shaking along with the rest of them, but they laughed. “And you can’t get a better bod than this one to share, right? Surprised it took you this long to ask for a spin.”

They were already back to being cheerful, but...With how unsteady everything seemed, it only seemed right to maneuver them over to the couch before they fell. It didn’t help that they were trying to move against Blooky to turn and walk out of the living room. Like none of that had just happened and they were perfectly fine—

Napsta’s legs buckled, all the...servos? Was servos the right word? All the time with Mettaton should have taught them better by now... All the _servos_ failing at once and dropping them to the floor with a crash that shook everything around them, even knocking a mug off the coffee table. Luckily it was empty, but they could see a hairline crack up the side. “You gotta let me up, Blooky,” they slurred, trying to fight back Blooky’s influence to push themself up on shuddering arms. “I’m okay, I swear.”

...That didn’t really sound or look okay. Luckily the carpet was soft enough that they only felt moderately bad for pushing Napsta all the way down onto their back. Luckily they had stopped crying completely by that point, because it really was a nice carpet, and probably very expensive. “No....You’ve made yourself sick, just lay down for a while... Please?”

“No, I feel better now, let me up... C’mon, we could go do a collab, don’t do this...” Their voice was crackling and squeaking, and their arms twitched and flopped, now unable to brace their hands on the floor, let alone making a second attempt at sitting up.

This was something more than just distress. It was weird, accessing a ‘sense’ they hadn’t ever experienced before, and Blooky needed a minute to find Napsta’s readouts. Their charge had dropped to a sliver that kept flashing red, and if Blooky didn’t do something, they might shut down altogether. It didn’t seem right to leave them, but with that body seemingly unable to move... There was a cord trailing on the floor beside the couch, and they slipped out to go retrieve it. The cord dropped through their hands a few time in their panicked haste, the effort of holding a physical object almost too much, but they managed to drag it over.

Mettaton had multiple outlets, and Blooky usually saw him use one in his thigh, chosen because it apparently looked “saucy and coquettish.” Surely Napsta didn’t do the same thing? They skimmed their hands over Napsta’s arms until they found a tiny depression in their wrist. Pressing it, more and more frantically as their limbs couldn’t make it move, finally got a little hatch to open, revealing an outlet there. The whole time as they tried to wrangle the plug into place, Napsta was twitching and mumbling something too low to catch. Maybe they were still insisting that they didn’t need it.

That first surge of energy was enough to make their words audible. “Come back, don’t go, I’m sorry... Come back, please...” If it’d help make Napsta feel better, maybe it was okay? They phased back into their chest, and at the time they assumed that the feeling of relief was just from finding a way to helpful. What had been comfortably warm was now overheated from their exertion, and far above a ghost’s typical body temperature. They would have expected it to be uncomfortable and stifling, but...it was actually kind of nice. Embarrassingly intimate, almost, and hopefully Napsta couldn’t feel their ghostly body fluttering around, taking in the feeling.

It would have been more comfortable to be up on the couch instead of on the carpet, but even with 5% charge and rising, their legs couldn’t do much more than twitching. There was a quilt draped over one couch arm that was in reach, and luckily their arms were a little more functional. Between the soft carpet and the quilt, it would hopefully be okay, and now that their temperature was going down, it probably wouldn’t overheat them.

Careful not to dislodge the cord, Blooky laid out their body on the carpet with the weighted quilt on their front and a pillow under their head. It didn’t take as much effort to access their music systems and the internal database of songs Napsta kept with them, not nearly as much as choosing a song that would fit a post-panic attack mood. Hopefully it would be an okay choice, not just something Napsta endured to avoid making waves...

A pair of little speakers opened up on each shoulder, letting out faint strains of ambient with amateur piano layered over it, much quieter than their usual fare. It was the sort of thing that Blooky might make themself, nothing like the singles and albums Napsta had released so far. (They had listened to all of them, of course.) It was...really embarrassing, to wonder if they were one of the few people in the world to hear it, because it was such a departure from their normal work, almost melancholic. Did they really deserve that honor?

Maybe Napsta would give them a copy of it, someday.

They had another, more selfish reason for keeping Napsta on the floor, even as their energy levels rose enough that Blooky could have moved them. The room around them was starting to go dark, lights unfurling above them and replacing the carpet. Hard to properly feel like garbage without a floor to lay on, right? It might have all looked the same to most people, but everyone that Blooky had convinced to lay beside them had a unique patch of stars and constellations. Maybe it would have been all the same to someone else, but they had spent enough time staring at their own display that the differences popped out immediately. They had wondered for a long time what stars Napsta carried inside of them.

It seemed like Napsta had no obligations for the day, no messages or phone calls, nothing to stop them from laying there and watching the stars with Blooky. A few more tears dripped out, but they seemed to be from exhaustion and not anxiety. At one point, they took control of their arms and Blooky watched, confused, as Napstabot interlaced their hands and laid them down on their chest. Blooky wasn’t sure what that meant, but they had been in such a comfortable silence that they decided not to ask.

Maybe it was silly to assume that Napsta had dozed off when they were literally in the same body and it would have been immediately obvious, but they still squeaked in surprise when they spoke up. “Thanks for this, y’know? You’re the best, Blooky.” And then, inexplicably since they couldn’t properly see it, Napsta winked?? “And whenever you wanna get up in here with me, let me know. I’m cool with it, and...this helped a lot.”

And, as if they were holding onto Blooky, they squeezed their hands a little tighter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long (and even longer for the second part), Happy New Year! I hope this characterization and everything else are all okay?? I wanted to try an anxious swapblook and not sure how well it came off. Since Napstabot has been a performer longer, I thought they'd try to cope by just faking emotions--'Blooky's distracted, let's just stop this.' Doesn't actually improve their mood or fix them wearing down their charge, but superficially it's convincing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The technically sexy chapter has arrived.

“So, what do you think about us fucking? Be honest.”

It really shouldn’t have been a surprise, but they squeaked all the same. Was that the natural escalation what they had now been doing for months? Was it a test, and would Napstabot think they were creepy for saying yes? It couldn’t be real.

Their whole...setup...still felt such a weird thing to do, even without adding sex to the mix. Blooky wasn’t a social butterfly in the least and it wasn’t like they had any sort of grasp on social norms, but even to them it seemed clear that this wasn’t done, wasn’t the sort of thing they could bring up in public or ask Shyren and Mettaton about. But when their counterpart looked at them with holes eaten in their designer clothes from acidic tears, and their limbs twitching wildly, and their voice distorted and glitching, it just made sense to help.

So they kept doing it: shared Napstabot’s body, moved it around. Told them to do things from the inside, or _made_ them do it. They were learning a lot more about how to share Napsta’s body or to take control away, and it turned out that the latter was kind of exciting for both of them. Blooky still wanted to run away in embarrassment, sometimes, but usually a break to hide in the bathroom was enough.

And it wasn’t like _those_ movies that Mettaton made which were adults-only. The ones with the whips and the latex bodysuits and Mettaton stepping on people that looked at him with adoring and terrified eyes. (Very careful stepping on sturdy monsters, and never his full weight on anything, even if it appeared to be.) Until pretty recently, they hadn’t realized someone could control and order another person around... _intimately_ without all those trappings. It probably should have been obvious, but Mettaton’s dominatrix routine had been their only exposure to that sort of thing before Napstabot.

They didn’t want to be mean to their friend, and hitting someone or insulting them seemed way out of their comfort zone. But if Napsta said it was okay for them to possess them and do things for their own good, and that counted as some sort of dominance, well...

(“Maybe I’ll argue about it in the moment, but I’d pass out anyway if you didn’t drag me to my charger just because I’m having a bad time and don’t want to. Makes things easier on me and Undyne in the long run. And it’s kind of like...not to be creepy, but it’s kinda hot, right? To be made to do things.” They laughed, as if it was the easiest thing in the world to admit, but Blooky could hear their fans switch on.)

This was something new, though. Napsta perfectly calm and cheerful, splayed out on the couch. Asking about _that..._ With Blooky of all people. They were such a popular musician that they must have had a whole crowd of more interesting, more attractive people to be with, right? It had to be a joke. Maybe Napsta was recording it to put online, and it was going to be the worst possible prank.

“W-with me? Napsta—I mean, that’s flattering, but—” They could feel their form getting more translucent, ready to vanish the moment Napsta started to laugh at them.

“I mean, maybe I was reading you wrong? If you don’t want to, that’s cool, but... I’d like to get closer to you in a sexy way. Like a friends with benefits kind of thing.”

“I—I’m not saying _no_ necessarily, but I don’t think I could do that much to you as a ghost? And...I don’t really like other people touching me?” Wasn’t that a deal-breaker?

“Well, there’s that, but we have this whole possession thing going, right? So, it could be you fucking me while you’re in my body. It wouldn’t really be touching you cuz you don’t really get the same sensations. But if that’s still too much contact, you could also like...order me to fuck myself, that’s cool too.” Somehow, they hadn’t ever considered either option. Ages of bodysharing and it hadn’t crossed their mind to touch Napsta that intimately.

But...it sounded nice. Better than nice. If they said yes, would that be when Napsta revealed that it was all a trick? They sounded so sincere, and they hadn’t done any cruel pranks before... Napsta was still patiently waiting, not pushing them or anything, and it seemed okay.

“Are you sure that’s good enough for you? I mean...if that’d be enjoyable...? I’d like to try, but...”

“I’m down with it, sounds like you are too, so get in here already.” Napsta spread their arms, and Blooky drifted into their body. They didn’t want to rush and look overeager but... ‘Overeager’ was pretty accurate.

It was startling how right it still felt settling into Napsta’s limbs, even though they had been doing this for such a long time. Somehow, even in such a bright and flashy body, things were comfortable, nothing like the dummies Maddy had insisted that they try out until they gave in to make the nagging stop. Back then, any body at all had seemed like how they imagined an itch. _This_ was how corporeality was supposed to feel, or at least they couldn’t imagine something better.

But now, more and more often, they thought that it wouldn’t be worth having a permanent body if it meant they couldn’t do this with Napsta anymore. Maybe it was so nice because it wasn’t theirs at all.

...And then they just stood there awkwardly until Napsta saved the moment. “How about we take this to the bedroom?” Napsta asked with a lilt in their voice, and they had walked their friend to enough impromptu naps to know where they were going. Maybe they stumbled a little on the way there, but it was a lot of pressure all of a sudden.

“Wait, there’s one more thing.” Napsta walked the two of them over to the corner of the bedroom where a gold-framed, full-length mirror stood. They had seen it a thousand times, usually with articles and photos taped along the edges and wedged into the corners, but now it was completely cleared off. Napsta wheeled it over the foot of the bed. “That’s kinda the whole point of this, can’t just forget the biggest part.”

They wanted Blooky to watch while they used their body? That was skipping over a bunch of steps of intimacy, wasn’t it? Napsta’s face fell, feeling their discomfort. “Shit, I mean, if you think it’s creepy, we don’t have to, I just thought it’d be easier for you to see what you’re doing?” They started to push it back, before Blooky froze their limbs, keeping them from going any further.

“Wait, stop...” They had to pause and think about it; it _was_ a big jump in intimacy, but... “If we use this, I can turn it around any time I need to?”

“Yeah of course! You’re the one running the show, it’s for you mostly. I mean, I’d like to watch too, but only if you’re down with it.” Their hands fluttered around the mirror frame, and Blooky took enough control to steer them back onto the bed. The view in the mirror was pretty embarrassing, but Napsta didn’t seem to mind them staring. In all the time they had spent in Napsta’s body, they had usually been too distracted to notice any mirrors, let alone look into them.

Napsta didn’t give any direction, and they didn’t know where they were supposed to start as they sat down on the bed. Taking off those gloves seemed like a good start, though, if they were going to do any touching? It was rare to see them barehanded, and they flexed their fingers, examining the delicate metal joints from close up before Napsta laughed, and they remembered they were in someone else’s body. They probably needed to get on with it.

Still nervous about getting more intense but wanting to do _something_ , Blooky reached up and pulled that ever-present hat off. They had been able to see a little of it in the past, but now the bun that they kept hidden beneath the hat was fully revealed. They were already plucking at the hair tie before they realized that maybe it was inappropriate. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have...”

“Nah, go ahead. I don’t have much sensitivity in my scalp, so I can’t feel a lot of that, but this is still nice. I’m cool with you playing with my hair.”

Permission granted, they slipped the hair tie away, careful not to pull too much. The artificial hair was probably secured better than they feared, but if they accidentally tore any out, it wasn’t going to grow back. And it was too pretty not to be careful with, shoulder length and silvery white, like an anime character. No doubt that had been the inspiration.

“If you always keep it tied up, why not get it changed for shorter hair? I mean, if that’s not too personal—” Now that they had access to Napsta’s hair, they couldn’t help winding it around their fingers and stroking it.

“It’s not a big deal. It doesn’t fit with my image and I don’t really like most people seeing it, but it’s not _bad_ and definitely not worth getting new hair installed. Someday it might be fitting if I go with a more romantic theme.” Like the tragic hero in some dramatic play... They clamped down on thoughts of a fantasy-style bard going on a ridiculous adventure to save their ghostly friend/romantic interest from some vague threat. That was just being silly!

In comparison to the hat, it almost felt less intrusive to remove their clothing, but only _almost_. Wasn’t that the point, to get them undressed so the touching could happen? As much as it’d be easier to keep Napsta clothed, they wouldn’t be able to see what they were doing. The arm holes of their puffy coat and shirt were an obstacle to someone whose idea of clothing was a pair of headphones, but soon they had them set aside on the bed. Taking off their shorts this soon seemed like it was rushing. Or was that too slow-paced?

“Um—” Napsta sounded uncomfortable; were they already done with this experiment? “Can I keep the jacket, though? Unzipped, so it’s not like it’ll block anything important. I’m not going to get off from my shoulders...”

“Of course, I’m sorry, I’ll just...” They fumbled to get the jacket back on over their bare torso, and in the mirror Blooky could see Napsta’s expression smooth over. Admittedly it _was_ a comfy jacket, squishy and warm without being stifling. They couldn’t remember a time when they had seen Napsta without it. If they had a body, they probably would have had a jacket too, something big and fluffy like Sans’s.

Now where were they supposed to begin? Blooky had the feeling that ghost masturbation had very little in common with what they were trying to do, and they weren’t even skilled at _that_. Unsure of what to do next, they settled for arranging Napsta in a more manageable position: sitting with legs spread rather than kneeling, the blankets straightened so they didn’t obscure anything. Not really a pinup pose, but they could see what they were doing.

And...maybe that was the wrong thing to do?? From the brief spike of embarrassment they could feel coming from Napsta. “Ah, I’m sorry, do you want me to stop? Is this a bad position?”

They shook their head. “Nah. Isn’t that the whole point of this, to make you move me around? If I complained about just this, then we’d never get to the racy parts.”

They were already getting nervous, but Napsta still had some control over their body, even if right now they were sitting back and letting things happen. Surely if something went catastrophically wrong, Napsta could take over and stop things, or use the safeword Blooky thought up in a panic the first time they realized they had been dominating Napsta for weeks without knowing.

Their glacial pace was probably boring to Napsta, but it was exciting to explore a robotic body like this; for all the time they had spent watching Mettaton, they hadn’t gotten _this_ close, enough to see all the little seams and parts. It didn’t seem unwelcome, and they settled into a haze as they explored Napsta’s arms, down their chestplate, and the delicate rivets on their face. Their hair was so soft...

Touching the glass over their floating soul felt too intimate by far, so they skipped over that and down to their bared shins. From the shivers, apparently they were doing something right? Or something terrible enough to make them shake with disgust. It was just light strokes, could it really be that exciting?

“You want the shorts off or nah? There’s some panels down there, if you want. Not junk, but as close as I can get.”

“Panels?” Napsta seemed to take that as a yes, briefly regaining one hand to pull off their shorts without any apparent embarrassment. Just as they said, there weren’t any add-ons between their thighs, but it was still shocking how easily they did it. As Blooky watched in surprise, they reached down to a seemingly indistinguishable stretch of metal thigh and pressed down. A panel popped open, and they were able to see bundles of wires, circuitry and pistons inside, things they could barely decipher the use of.

“There’s more on my forearms, one on my neck, a big one on my middle... And obviously,” Napsta waved a hand between their thighs, “one down there. I mean, sometimes I need ‘Dyne to work on my legs down there, but mostly she installed that one for... you know. This sort of thing. It’s really sensitive stuff in there, so if you touch any of it, it’ll be good for me. Maybe don’t pull too hard on the wires, but other than that, you’re cleared to fondle.”

“Isn’t that awkward? I mean, for when you’re being repaired...”

“There’s this...sub-routine? That I don’t run if it’s just for getting fixed, so Undyne doesn’t have to deal with it. But yeah, I’m definitely running it for you, babe.” And they winked into the mirror with their tongue sticking out a little, the sort of thing they had done for a crowd a thousand times. But here it felt natural. “So that one’s the easiest one to use to fuck me. You could mess around in some of the other ones—and I have before, trust me, I know from experience—but if something goes wrong with them, I figure you wouldn’t want to deal with calling up Undyne and having her know. Right?”

“Wh-what?? Of course not!” They couldn’t help flinching away from the gap. Was Napsta really that fragile? Mettaton often complained about repairs, but they had assumed it was just a combination of wild stunts and worrying that his new, less rectangular body might break down inconveniently. And, admittedly, vanity.

“No, it’s fine, seriously. I screw myself all the time on this section, and I’ve never broken myself that badly. Plus, if you _did_ somehow mess it up, I’ll just tell Undyne I was jerking off and leave you out of it, alright? There’s nothing to worry about. Unless you want to stop?”

Most of Blooky’s control was centered in the arms, so the expressions they saw were all Napsta—embarrassment and worry that they stuffed underneath a grin once they remembered they were being watched. Were they feeling self-conscious, wondering if their robotic body was too weird or foreign for Blooky to want? They didn’t really know what words would convince Napsta of their desirability, but maybe touch was enough. “I do want to keep going...”

Still hesitant, they traced the edges of the open panel, not ready to attempt those wires yet. Were even the outsides of it sensitive? They were already getting nervous again. It was too quiet, and they hadn’t done enough for Napsta to respond to anything, but their silence was starting to freak Blooky out, and—

They needed music. Blooky fumbled to start the first playlist they could access, surprised that they hadn’t thought of it earlier. Maybe they should have asked, maybe Napsta had cultivated a whole sex playlist that would be a lot more appropriate than trip-hop, but it was enough unfreeze them. They turned it down low enough so that they could still talk comfortably, then returned their attention to that open panel, feeling more confident.

“Nice choice.”

“Ah!” They had just slipped a single finger inside, resting against the closest wires and not ready to move yet. “Are you sure, I can change it...”

“Nah, the music’s great. You’re the one in charge, after all.” Just saying that made Napsta’s fans whir louder, and Blooky could feel themself getting more turned on. If they hadn’t been possessing them, their body probably would have been dripping ectoplasm already. _They were in charge..._

That was enough to push them onward, and Blooky began to move hesitantly, still somewhat doubting that it could be pleasurable just to touch those wires, with barely any pressure at first and then harder at Napsta’s encouragement. They were loose and had more give than expected, so Blooky could alternate between winding them around their fingers and squishing them around. The whole area was getting hotter from the attention, but Napsta probably would have brought it up if there was a risk of things melting. Otherwise, their fumbling didn’t seem to be doing any harm. If anything, it seemed to be working really well, from the noises Napsta was starting to make. They seemed to prefer Blooky pulling on their wires more than anything, if their volume was a clear enough tell.

There wasn’t enough room in that gap for more than one hand, so what were they supposed to do with the other one? They hadn’t noticed any particular spots that Napsta had liked better during their initial touches, so they just settled for exploring their other thigh, all the tiny bolts and seams. They could feel tiny scratches that had gone unrepaired, and it was hard not to think of Napsta digging their fingers in while they were pleasuring themself.

They couldn’t help watching Napsta’s soul in the mirror rather than their hands, even if touching it was out of the question. It just looked so beautiful, clouds of blue glitter billowing out of it, the whole thing glowing brighter than Blooky had ever seen before. In the past, they had only allowed themself tiny glances at it, convinced it was far out of the bounds of their normal, completely platonic friendship. Now they could barely look away.

Until they felt something wet against Napsta’s face and looked up to see magical tears threatening to spill down their cheeks.

“Oh no, you’re crying, should I...” Before they had finished the probably stupid question, they were already trying to retreat. Did the tears mean something had gone catastrophically wrong? It must have. They had touched something wrong on accident and ruined everything—

With what ghost ability they had maintained despite gaining a body, Napsta clung to Blooky’s form and kept them from floating away. “Hey, hey, settle down. I get it if you’re freaked out, but...” Wouldn’t _most_ people be freaked out by someone crying in the middle of sex? Especially bullet tears, since they didn’t seem to have any other way to cry. Luckily Undyne had made them sturdy enough that it didn’t eat through their faceplates, but...these were nice bed sheets, Blooky didn’t want them ruined just because they were bad at The Sex.

“You know it’s like...I haven’t gotten laid with someone else in a long time, it’s just intense. Haven’t you ever cried when you were happy before? ‘Specially because we’re ghosts, it just comes naturally to us. I cry all the time when I’m writing songs.”

“A-are you sure? We could have a break...”

“If it freaks you out, I get it, but I’m alright. It really feels nice, I promise.” With a bit of concentration, their tears started floating upwards, safely dispersing above their head.

...Usually when they cried and masturbated, it wasn’t for very happy reasons, but Napsta was grinning encouragingly, even as more tears drifted up towards the ceiling. Hesitantly, they started to move again.

After a while of fondling wires, pulling gasps and moans out of Napsta, things seemed to...plateau. What was Blooky doing wrong, that they hadn’t orgasmed yet? They must have been performing badly in some way, since they had never had a corporeal partner before, or even a partner at all. They knew what another ghost might like from their own furtive, lonely explorations, but a body was still strange and unknown. Maybe Napsta wasn’t enjoying it at all, and they were just being kind and faking things. They _were_ a performer, so maybe those synthesized moans were for show. Was their soul a little less bright now?

And then, they even stopped moaning. From Blooky’s perspective, though it was distant both to be respectful and to avoid feeling things themself, nothing seemed painful or uncomfortable. Whatever was bothering them was clearly mental, and Blooky slowed down, trying to extract their fingertips from the wires. One of their movements must have been too vigorous, because Napsta gathered themself enough to speak. “Hey, hey, um. Could you stop for a bit, I—wait, uh, Thundersnail—”

Their safeword. At the time they made it, Blooky hadn’t really thought about what would happen if it came up. Between the two of them, it should have been Blooky to use it, right? To be on the other end...

“Sorry, sorry!” Their immediate instinct was to wrench their hand out, yanking at the wires between their fingers. They didn’t detach completely, but Blooky’s rushed movements nearly dragged them out of the panel, the bundle of wires limp against Napsta’s thigh as they whimpered and squirmed. The feeling was overwhelming enough that their ghostly form throbbed with it, and they barely kept from fleeing completely.

It took a minute of static before they could gather themself enough to speak. “Ah—shit, Blooky, should’ve said something earlier. Fuck...”

“Are you okay? Is there something I can do?” They were barely exerting any control now, so Napsta was free to flop back down on their back, arms outstretched, shaking legs splayed open so that their thighs couldn’t touch, making no effort to fix their wires.

“Yeah, I should’ve warned you in advance. Guess I thought I could tell you in time but got so distracted by how hot things were? But I have this _thing_ where... Promise you won’t think it’s weird?” Only once they agreed did Napsta continue. “Yeah, I know it’s like abnormal or whatever, but I don’t really like finishing? Undyne’s been working on it, cuz she’s a sweetheart, but right now if I get off completely, it’s like this jolt of energy going through my body, like I’ve been electrocuted or something. Honestly it hurts more than it feels good. Sometimes parts of me burn out or shut down, it fucks up my charge, sometimes my _eyes_ cut out for hours or I can’t walk...”

“Oh no, I’m sorry...!” How close had they gotten to accidentally incapacitating their friend? “Are you alright?” They drifted out of Napsta’s body, as if there was something they could have done aside from pat at Napsta with their nubby ghost arms. If they actually _wanted_ to be patted after Blooky had nearly done that to them. Plus that accumulated arousal was starting to become too heavy for them to keep their distance.

“Yeah, you stopped so there’s no point in worrying. I’ll be turned on for a while, but it’ll wear off if you don’t touch me, and it’s a lot better than the alternative. Seriously, that was hot as hell for like 90% of it, you did great.”

“...I did?” Was it over? Successfully over, even? Now that they weren’t in danger anymore, Napsta had gone back to cheerful, grinning up at them as they floated above their torso.

“Yeah, that was a good time. And, I mean I know you said you don’t like being touched, but if there’s any way I can return the favor otherwise? I’ve got some sex toys that might work on ghosts that you could take into the other room alone, if you’re into that... Don’t want to leave you hanging or anything.”

“Um, no, I’m good, really, I don’t need anything. I promise...” And Napsta nodded, just like that, and dropped the subject. It would be far too embarrassing, not when they could just save the memory for when they were completely alone. They turned away, feeling their whole form light up in a blue blush.

Where were they supposed to go from here? Could this be more than a one-time experiment? Maybe Napsta had liked it enough that they could try again someday. Maybe they would do better next time, now that they knew their body a little better.

“Hey.” They floated around to look at them, where they were closing up their body, hiding away all those wires, their arousal apparently faded enough to fix themself without toppling over the edge. “Can...can I kiss you, Blooky?”

“I—I don’t have lips??” Out of all the contact they could have, a kiss didn’t seem that unpleasant, possibly even enjoyable, but ghosts weren’t the most kissing-friendly form of monster. Ghosts had their own thing, where they sort of...phased their heads into each other, but that didn’t have much to do with tongues or lips. Blooky had never done that anyway—too intense.

“No, come back in for a moment. I can make this work if you’re down for it.” They weren’t sure what Napsta had planned, but it would be okay, right? Blooky had stopped for them, hopefully they would do the same if this kiss, whatever it turned out to be, was too much to handle. They floated back in, cautiously hopeful.

There was enough of a pause that they wondered if Napsta had lost their nerve, as they patiently waited, not moving the body around them. Maybe it was a mental kiss? Napsta had said and done much stranger things before...

And then, a hand reached out. Blooky watched as they dragged the mirror closer, staring deeply at it from just a few inches away. Mussed hair, still mostly naked, their fans whirring away in the silence. And then, eyes activated the whole time, they leaned forward and kissed their reflection, a chaste kiss against the cold glass—against Blooky. Just for a moment, without any lipstick marks left behind, like they had seen Mettaton do a hundred times without really understanding _why_. They drew back, their artificially warm breath fogging the glass, waiting for Blooky’s response.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad to have a kiss every now and then, as long as it was just a kiss. So... before they could think and inevitably talk themself out of it, Blooky took control just long enough to lean forward, lips barely pursed, and brushed against the warm spot. Maybe the only reciprocity they needed to have: one kiss for each of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy (late) birthday CB!! 
> 
> I wonder if this is too gratuitous? Honestly, I just wanted both of them to show up to this sexual encounter with their own difficulties and preferences while still having it be enjoyable and intimate. It doesn’t ruin the experience that Napstabot doesn’t have junk or like orgasms and Napstablook doesn’t want most forms of touch--it still works for them. I hope it’s still acceptable, even if it’s not hot.


End file.
